


Forsake All Others

by BD_Z



Series: Till Death Do Us Start [2]
Category: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Protectiveness, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 20:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19471423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BD_Z/pseuds/BD_Z
Summary: It's just not fair. She saves the family, saves the ghosts and gives the demon a chance to live/die. Sure, he came back but did all of this mean she had to lose her darkroom? And what the heck was this marriage doing to her? These feelings are just ... weird.  [Pt. 2 in Till Death Do Us Start]





	Forsake All Others

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, Mordelle for being my beta

Cringing sounds of construction, relentless banging, and pervy construction guys filled the Deetz house. The sounds were nearly as bad as the first round of developments. Only this time, Lydia was losing half her working space.

The reason? Well, there were two. First, Lydia shot digital photography these days and no longer needed all that space for a dark room.

The second reason was picking his teeth and reclining on the living room sofa. Not that it was his fault, but it kinda was since he made that sofa smell like dirty old guy sweat. Delia pitched a fit about it nearly every day for the past two weeks before Charles finally did something about it. He couldn't deny his wife, and as much as he despised the ghost who tricked and tormented the family, he loved his daughter too and knew that her choices in the past were permanent. 

So naturally, Lydia had to be the one to live with the consequences. Figured. Do something to help out and fix the situation and end up punished anyway. The problems teenagers face these days. 

Lydia stomped over to the sofa, shoving Beetlejuice's legs off the couch, much to his surprise and mild protest. She didn't care. She was too pissed to care.

"So, how'd it go?" The ghost asked knowing full well that things did  _ not _ go according to plan. She shot him a look that told him to back off before she did more than push his legs.

"Not happening." She crossed her arms over her chest, pouting like a petulant child. Adopting a mocking tone in impersonation of her father, she continued, "Lydia, if he is going to stay here, I need him as far away from you as possible. You don't need the entire darkroom. I value your safety."

Shifting her voice into a mockery of Delia, Lydia touched her heart as if fondling a quartz crystal to calm her energy. ”You are valid in feeling like you are being wronged, but please understand it's for your own protection.”

"Good impersonation but I can get them to change their mind if ya really wanted." The ghost sat up and scooted closer to her glaring every so often at a worker whose eyes would stop on the fishnet-clad legs of his wife.

This wasn't the first time either.

Lydia had noticed and crossed her legs, turning herself away from them so she could talk to Beej. "Can they even see you?" She asked as one of them winked at her.

"I'm dead, not a demon anymore. Pretty sure all this guy sees is a pissed off goth chick. You know how it goes these days. Men, all they want is their big tiddy goth GF. Losers don't stand a chance. I can kill em if they are bothering ya."

Disgusted Lydia twisted her body to face the ghost. 

"What can I do?" She asked only to come face to face with a devilish grin, "Not to kill them but for them to see you."

The clarification did nothing to stop the grin as it grew wider. 

"Beetlejuice."

"Oh, baby say it two more times."

"About that," Lydia quirked a smile at him when he threw his arms up in defeat. ” What's gonna happen if I say your name? Are you gonna turn back into a demon and go on a killing spree?"

She touched his knee to regain his attention when he snarled at one of the moving guys who looked ready to approach them.

"I'll cut this guy's dick off if he checks you out again."

Lydia laughed out loud, startling the breathers. She removed herself from the couch and dusted her skirt, tugging the hem down to give her legs more coverage before walking away from the ghost. 

Intentional or not, Lydia made eye contact with the moving guy who had been following her with lecherous eyes all day, and though he was handsome enough, he didn't do it for her. No one did these days. Had they ever? The man was a little younger than Adam and Barbra but still older than her. Probably would be the kind of guy her dad would prefer over the murderous ghost always watching her with daggers in his eyes.

She did a double-take, he had fucking daggers in his eyes. With a giggle, she climbed the stairs and headed to her room.

Unfortunately, she wasn't alone.

* * *

Bj snarled when he realized the breather intended to follow Lydia up to her room. He tripped over his own feet much to his annoyance before toddling along after her only to be floored again by a crash into the spirit of Barbra Maitland.

With a groan of irritation, he returned to his feet, not bothering to help Babs. He ignored the words flying out of her mouth. Beej would have been impressed by the increasing colorful vocabulary had he had time to reflect on it. 

"No time, Sweetcheeks. Got a code…. I don't know…. Purple. Gotta get to Lyds."

* * *

Lydia flung herself across her bed, moaning deep into her pillow to fight off the odd sensations she had been feeling. 

Were the wedding vows responsible for this irritating inability to find even one boy, one man, attractive? Not even women did it for her these days. She would keep that secret to herself since she was pretty damn sure it would be used against her in the future. So what now? Was she doomed to eternity with a grimy creep who liked to maim, murder, and torture? Greasy, dirty and manipulative even if he was funny as all get up. 

Yet he did sorta understand where she was coming from when it came to her views on the world. Married to her best friend was better than getting set up with another of Delia’s “good” guys.

Ugh… these soft squishy thoughts were turning her guts inside out.

It was then as she rolled over in her bed, causing her skirt to rise, that the sound of her bedroom door opened and closed. Her mental train of thought derailed by the intrusion. 

"I'm not in the mood Beej. I want to lay in bed and forget that humanity is worthless and that life is nothing but meaningless misery."

The lack of snarky reply struck her as odd. Enough for her to turn her head toward the door only to find the smarmy grin of the worker from downstairs. Her stomach turned.

"What are you doing here?" She put as much disdain in her voice that she could muster to hide the uncertainty that began filling her like a lump of overcooked meatloaf. "Shouldn't you be in the basement with all the other bulldozer dweebs destroying my darkroom?"

The guy shrugged, "Never could ignore the 'signs' when a chick is askin' for attention. You've been pretty obvious. Pretty sure no one is gonna miss me."

"Oh boy, you so have the wrong idea. Get out before I get my father to call the cops."

“Cute, I love a little hard to get roleplay. So, are you a virgin or something? This your first time seducing a dude cuz, if it were anyone else, they’d think you were serious. Lighten up.”

Right about then Beetlejuice opened, entered and slammed the door behind him, startling the man who nervously laughed when he noticed the empty space where BJ stood. 

Lydia scrambled off the edge of her bed to put space between them but not before rapidly saying her ghostly husband's name three times. She didn’t miss the grin, nor was she surprised to hear the man scream as he was lifted off the floor by invisible air and tossed against the wall. 

Beej manifested like he had done before he lost all his demon abilities. Cracking his knuckles, he cackled at the pure fear on the potential homewreckers face.

“I believe my wife told you she wasn’t interested. Now… outta respect for her room, cuz I know she would gladly throw me in the doghouse if I got blood everywhere, I suggest getting the hell out of our house before I gut you like a fish and fillet your pathetic corpse for all the world to see.”

Lydia, breathless, sank to the floor as she watched the man scramble out of the room, not even bothering to give her another look. Beej continued to stare at the empty spot where the man once sat. He breathed in and out in heavy, even breaths before turning his eyes to his bride.

“B-”

He crossed the room faster than she expected, leaping over the bed and covering her mouth with his hand while the other pulled her body close to him. He held her with surprising tenderness. Hand placed respectfully on her back, and with a feral curl of the lips, he removed his hand and smooched her loudly before hugging her to his chest again.

“Oh god…” She gaped at him, unable to process her thoughts yet she managed to hurl her words like rocks. “You're crushing me, you disgusting creepo.”

“Flattery. That’s why I love ya.” He squeezed her tighter but let go when she pushed against his chest. Her cheeks flushed when she saw the look of relief and adoration on his deathly parlor. She recoiled, though it was not in fear. 

This situation set her nerves on edge. With her confused emotions and waring thoughts, she stepped back, not acknowledging that he blatantly kissed her not moments ago. 

“So… he … practically shit himself.” She began with a nervous laugh. “Thank you. For, you know, saving me.”

“Eh, it’s nothing. Just doing my job as the dutiful husband and protecting your honor.”

Not buying his sincerity, Lydia smirked and rolled her eyes. “Bullshit. Now get out. I don’t want  _ you _ in my pants either.”

Cackling, Beej casually strolled towards the door turning around just before exiting. “Babes. I got nothin’ but time. Thanks for sayin’ my name. Starting to feel a little more…. Alive.”

Despite the weirdness, Lydia snorted out a laugh feeling a million times better than she had that morning.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
